


Desperation

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean x Reader, Desperation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Reader Insert, Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: When Dean almost dies, you need to make sure he’s still there.





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@spnkinkbingo](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/).   
> Square filled: Desperation
> 
> I apologize for nothing.

It took every ounce of your willpower not to charge ahead and leave Sam in the dust as the two of you carefully made your way through the house. Time after time, you had to refocus your mind on the task at hand, if only to avoid stepping on a creaking floorboard and give yourself away. With one eye on Sam, all your senses were on full alert as you cleared room after room. You were almost grateful that these were Michael’s special werewolves because the rage inside you needed to come out and beheading monsters certainly fed that need.

After a silent argument with Sam - you wanted to continue upstairs while he wanted to clear the basement first, and he refused to split up - you reluctantly followed him downstairs. Finding the basement empty, you almost growled at the hunter over the wasted time, and led the way back up the stairs. 

Keeping your back to the wall, you ascended the stairs into a shadowed hallway of closed doors. You gestured Sam to the left while you went right, your gut telling you that was where Dean was even though there were no sounds.

No light spilled from under any of the doors, so you resorted to sneaking up to each one and putting your ear against the peeling paint. Sam caught up to you at the second door, passing you and checking the next. Almost at the same time, you both carefully pulled the doors open, finding only two empty rooms. 

Converging on the last closed door, Sam gestured for you to open it while he led. There was no need to listen first, there was no other place the last monsters could be, along with Dean. Silently, you sent a prayer to Chuck, or whoever would listen, that Dean was all right. That he was still alive.

Sam gave you a curt nod, and then everything happened at once. You yanked the door wide open to let Sam charge into the room. A moment later he had assessed the threat and was already moving to eliminate it. 

You flowed in behind him, your view blocked by his large frame until you managed to slip along the wall to see past him. What you saw almost buckled your knees. Dean was tied to a metal frame like a deer hide pulled tight for scraping. There were trickles of blood coming from under the metal cuffs at his wrists and his torso looked like they had gone at him with their claws and teeth, his clothes reduced to a few tattered rags.

Before they could overwhelm you, you bundled those feelings up tight and locked them in a box in your mind. Only one of the monsters was still standing and you launched yourself at him with a scream of rage. One smooth swipe of your blade and the head bounced and rolled to a stop across the room. 

Sam was still looking around to make sure the werewolves were all dead when you stopped in front of Dean. 

“Shit, shit, shit, baby, what did those monsters do to you? Dean? You still with me?” 

At the sound of your voice, Dean managed to crack one eye just enough to let you know he was still alive. Choking back a sob, you fumbled at the cuffs, finding them locked. Your only thought was that you had to get Dean down, get him home where Cass could heal him before it was too late. You pawed at the clothes of the dead werewolves, finding nothing. When you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder, you almost lashed out before you realized it was him, and in his other hand, he was holding a small key.

You snatched the key from his fingers and threw yourself at the task of freeing Dean’s wrists, while Sam cut the ropes that held his brother’s ankles to the bottom of the frame. 

Dean collapsed into your arms with a strangled grunt of pain, almost taking you both down as you tried to hold up his full weight by yourself. Sam quickly came to your rescue, putting one of Dean’s arms around his shoulders. You slipped under Dean’s other arm, and together you managed to carry him down the stairs and out to the waiting car.

Leaving Sam to wrangle Dean’s limp body into the backseat, you ran around the back of the car and yanked open the door on the other side, sliding onto the seat just in time to pull Dean’s head onto your lap. 

“Shit, I should have put a blanket down. Dean’s gonna kill me,” Sam grumbled when he realized the seat would get stained with his brother’s blood.

“For fuck’s sake, Sam, just get in the car and get us home,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

Your fingers hovered over Dean’s face, wanting to comfort him, but not wanting to cause him more pain. There was no spot on his face that was free of cuts or bruises, his eyes so swollen shut it was a wonder he had managed to crack one as much as he had earlier.

Blinking furiously to clear the tears from your eyes, you managed to call Cass and fill him in, getting him to promise to meet you in the garage to heal Dean as soon as you arrived.

You spotted Cass before the car had even come to a full stop. Tears still trickling down your face, you waited impatiently for Sam to stop the car, then for Cass to get the door open.

Holding onto Dean as you were, you felt the cool wash of grace flow through you as well, while you watched as Dean’s cuts healed, his bruises faded away, and the swelling went down. No matter how many times you had seen it by now, the sight would never cease to amaze and fascinate you.

You waited for Dean’s eyes to open. When they stayed stubbornly closed, you looked up at the angel.

“He needs to finish healing. I made sure he’ll sleep for a little while,” Cass explained, giving you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, he’s ok.”

Bending over Dean where he still lay with his head on your lap, you let your emotions out. The sobs shook your body and not even Castiel’s hand gently stroking your back could bring you any comfort. Dean had almost died, and seeing him like that nearly broke you. 

* * *

When Dean’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was your smile. You had refused to leave his side, not even to clean the werewolf goop off yourself, just so you could be there when he woke up.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, one hand coming up to cup his face. “How are you feeling?”

Dean took a moment to assess himself, then nodded.

“I’m alive, and not in pain anymore,” he smiled wryly. 

“Cass healed you,” you told him, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. “I gotta say, Dean, it’s a good thing you didn’t die, because I would’ve had to kill you.”

Dean chuckled softly at that and turned his head to place a kiss in the middle of your palm.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart,” he quipped.

Taking a deep breath, you sat back and shook your head at him.

“Well, now that you’re awake, and I know you’re gonna live, I’d better go get cleaned up. I stink of werewolf brains.”

“You do? I hadn’t noticed,” Dean retorted with a smug grin. “You want some company?”

“No, you just stay here and rest. I’ll be back in a little bit,” you smiled.

The smile faded as soon as the door was closed behind you and you had to bite back a sob of relief. You moved almost on autopilot as you cleaned up, and once you were in the shower, the water masking the sound, you curled up on the floor and let all the emotion flow out of you in deep, wracking, sobs. 

In just a t-shirt and sweatpants, you ambled back to Dean’s room, finding him still in bed. Apparently, he had gotten up long enough to put on a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt, which you saw when he held the blanket up for you to get in next to him.

You snuggled up close and ran your hand over his chest, relieved to feel smooth skin rather than the gaping gashes you still remembered all too vividly. Dean must have heard something in the rhythm of your breaths, or maybe he just understood what you needed instinctively because he tightened his arm around you protectively.

Needing to see him, you threw the blanket off, leaving it hanging off the side of the bed. You propped yourself up on one elbow and just looked at Dean’s face, letting yourself truly see that all the bruises, the cuts, the swollen eyes, were gone. With a fingertip, you traced his features, reassuring yourself by touch that he was all right.

When you pushed his t-shirt up, he quickly pulled it the rest of the way up and off over his head, tossing it aside. Your touch became more insistent, needing to feel him, feel his whole, unbruised, skin under your hands. 

Dean’s lips parted when his breathing sped up, affected by your touch, and your hand came up to trace the outline of them. With a strangled cry of desperation, you pressed your own lips to his, your tongue licking into his mouth, tasting him. Your hands gripped his face, needing to feel him, every inch of him, to know that he was really and truly all right.

Breaking away from him for just long enough to tear your clothes off, you felt like you could hardly breathe. You straddled his lap and bent down to continue kissing him, stealing his breath, and smothering the soft moans escaping him.

Dean’s hands came up to your thighs, the calloused palms stroking your skin, pressing you against him when he rolled his hips up to let you know just how much he needed you too.

Your lips left his to travel along his jawline, down the side of his neck, along his collarbone. Some part of you wanted to devour him and whined needily for you to taste every inch of his skin. 

Dean’s hands slid up along your thighs to cup your ass, pressing your pussy against his still covered cock and drawing a growl from you. Those hands caressed your skin from your ass up your back, his strong arms hugging you tight while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

Almost sobbing, your hands slipped under him to grip his shoulders. Your lips found his skin again, at the juncture where his neck met his shoulder, and you sucked hard, needing to leave your own mark on him. 

The feeling of you marking him drew a groan from deep in Dean’s chest, his hips thrusting up against you. Letting go with a wet sucking sound, you pulled your lips back and bit down on the dark purple mark with a low growl.

Your hands slid out from under his shoulders to caress the skin down his sides, making Dean flinch when it tickled him. Reaching the waistband of his boxers, you shoved them down as far as you could without moving. You were reluctant to let go of the feeling of his body against yours, and he seemed to feel the same.

With some shimmying, and a little help from Dean, you finally managed to get his boxers off. Adjusting your position slightly, you felt his cock settle between you, against your throbbing pussy. Dean’s hips moved on their own, sliding his length through your folds, coating it with your slick.

Your head dropped to his shoulder and you bit down, hard, drawing a hiss of pain from Dean.

“Fuck. Dean, I need you. Need to feel you, all of you,” you mumbled against his skin, your voice hoarse with desperate desire.

Without a word, Dean rolled you both over, slipping his hands under your shoulders. Kneeling between your legs, he thrust slowly, his cock grinding against your slick pussy. With a groan, you reached down and guided him inside you. Dean’s head fell to your shoulder, your moans of pleasure mingling together. 

You wrapped your legs around him, reveling in the feeling of him surrounding you completely, his cock stretching your pussy as deliciously as ever. Moving together, he lifted you until you were sitting on his lap, his hips thrusting at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your arms went around his shoulders, pressing your breasts against his chest, your forehead against his. 

Dean’s hands came down to cradle your ass, pulling you impossibly closer. His hips snapped up hard against you, making you cry out and grab him harder, holding on tight. His lips found yours and stole your breath this time. The world seemed to tilt around you and the mattress came up to meet you, Dean still pressed close against you. He grabbed your shoulders for leverage, and then set a hard and fast pace, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it.

With the two of you pressed so closely together, you bit down on Dean’s shoulder, your hands clawing at his back, while he fucked you just the way you needed it. Each thrust pulled a cry from you, muffled by his flesh between your teeth. 

Dean’s panting breaths were warm against the side of your face and neck, both of you slick with sweat. There were no thoughts, only the feeling of him against you, inside you. 

“I love you.”

With his lips almost against your ear, Dean panted those three hoarse words that flung you over the edge into bliss. The feeling of your spasming muscles squeezing his cock inside you dragged Dean along a moment later, spilling inside you with a low groan.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck, his arms still around you, hands still gripping your shoulders as if he was drowning. Your own arms were still around him as well, holding him tightly. When he moved to roll off you, you stopped him.

“Don’t move. I need to feel you,” you mumbled against his neck.

He hugged you tighter and stayed.

“I thought you were dead. That I’d lost you,” you managed, in a strained breath, holding back your tears.

“Never,” Dean whispered back, lips moving against your skin.

A small sob escaped you, making him tighten his arms around you. Finally, you let him roll off you, only to pull you against his chest. Your head rested on his arm, his breath warm on the back of your neck. That was how you fell asleep, the little spoon to his big spoon, safely protected in his arms.


End file.
